


Nevermore

by WickedGinger



Category: N/A - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Murder, Murder of a Co-Worker, Original Character Death(s), Original Character(s), commission
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-03
Updated: 2019-09-03
Packaged: 2020-10-06 12:14:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20506829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WickedGinger/pseuds/WickedGinger
Summary: Jessica has had a bad day and it has just gotten worse, or maybe better?





	Nevermore

**Author's Note:**

  * For [406Cowgirl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/406Cowgirl/gifts).

I will be the first to admit that I do not have the patience of a saint, however, after dealing with my technophobe husband and two children, three and eight respectively, I have learned to have some semblance thereof. Despite all of that? Malcolm McCready, head of our local school district, was jumping on my last nerve, and he was wearing climbing spikes while doing it. 

An ear-piercing, headache-inducing, screech cut through the early morning silence, causing me to jump in my chair, waking me up like my coffee only tries to do. It was the phone. Well, hell. 

“Pine Ridge Transportation, how may I help you,” I asked as I answered it. I didn’t chirp. It was 0500 and I had not had enough coffee yet to chirp. Quite possibly not enough caffeine in the world right now for me to chirp. I at least sounded semi-friendly. That was good enough. 

“Yeah, I wanted to talk to someone about when my kid’s going to be picked up on his bus route this year? It’s two weeks until school starts and we haven’t received any information.” 

In my head I answered him thusly - First of all, it isn’t even five-thirty yet, call back during business hours when our office assistant is in so I don’t have to talk to you. Second, this is something that should have been addressed by your school, not us. Despite the fact that we provide the transportation for all of the schools in a fifteen-mile radius, we give all the info we have to the schools, and they are supposed to give it out, not us. Especially not me. I already have enough on my plate, I don’t need to do someone else’s job on top of it. Because the district keeps sending parents my way? I do not have enough time in my usual workday to get MY work done. Which is assigning kids to stops and routing busses. I was also currently taking care of the charter side of the house as the woman who usually did that was out on maternity leave. 

Instead, I said,” Well, that sounds unfortunate, may I have the cross streets your child’s stop is at?” The conversation carried on from there. I didn’t cuss at him or tell him that it wasn’t my problem, or just hang up on him. Oh, I wanted to, but I have this horribly ingrained thing called professional fucking courtesy, which is more than I can say for Mal. I have sent that man several emails to the tune of ‘please do your fucking job so I can do mine’. Granted not quite that…blatant, but close enough. He hasn’t deigned to reply. My boss even stepped in and asked Mal to stop, and I quote,’picking around on taxpayer dollars’ and do his ‘Goddamned job’. I was impressed. And yet, here we are. I have started coming in four-plus hours early and staying till after eight just to get things done. It has been killing me, slowly but surely, and honestly, I don’t know how much longer I can do this. 

Thankfully, our office assistant, Robin, got in a little bit early. I gave her the run down so she could field most bus stop questions and told her to send the ones she didn’t know to my voice mail. If I could get through at least 50-75 more kids before noon, I could call people back after lunch. 

“Hey, Jessica…”

I held my finger up, request one moment while I finished what I was doing. Once I had saved the route, I turn around to find Fergus Temple, our resident mechanic, or just Ferg for short, right next to me. “Thank you for waiting. If I lost what I was doing, I’d have had to start all over again. What can I help you with, Ferg?”

Looked down and filled with his ball cap. “Well, I’m sorry to bother you, but you’re the only person besides me who can drive a bus here right now…”

“Wait. Bossman took off already?”

He winced. “Yeah, about an hour ago.”

“Hell. Okay, go on.”

“Well, you see, one of the busses we loaned out to that one summer camp needs to come back. Apparently, it’s driving all funky. Would you mind taking me out there so I can get it back to the shop?” He was super hopeful. Even though I was hella busy, why not. It’ll get me out of the office and I can pick up something other than leftovers while I’m out. I glanced at the phone to check the time. It beeped at me, reminding me that I have a lunch meeting with Malcolm today. Shiiiiiiiiiit. I had completely forgotten. 

“Sure! I have to do it right now, or you’ll have to wait until after my lunch meeting with Mal.”

Ferg wrinkled his nose. “No, thank you. I like you, but no. Now would be fantastic.”

That is what I thought. No one wants to deal with me, or really anyone after they have to in turn deal with Malcolm McCready. 

“Well, as my husband would say when in doubt, throw chocolate at me and back away slowly.”

“Ha! In the office that works fine, but were I stuck in your car with you, not so much.”

“Fair, fair. Okay, let’s go!”

Taking Ferg out to the Pine Ridge Youth Empowerment Summer Camp was rather uneventful. Not that I was expecting anything to really happen, but even traffic was light considering the time of day. Maybe the universe was apologizing for me having to deal with Mal. Ha. If only. 

Going to the restaurant was another matter. If I didn’t hit every red light on the way there, it sure felt like I had. On top of it, traffic sucked. Almost getting t-boned twice, not to mention all of the assholes who pulled what a friend calls a “Kuwait-y Slide” in front of me, I was not in the best of moods when I pulled up to Flaming Dragon Chinese. The problem with the Flaming Dragon parking lot right now is that is was still gravel. Smooth gravel at that, making stopping even harder than it should be. 

I pulled into the parking lot a little faster than I usually would, on the account of being late and this asshole tailgating me. I had only seconds to choose - do I hit the man, who happened to be a late coming Malcolm, or run over the murder of ravens to my right. I have always been an animal lover and could never hurt a hair, or feather on their head. Mal on the other hand. 

He hit my front bumper and went under. For whatever reason, I thought he’d go over, more like the deer I hit a couple of years ago did. I screeched to a stop, the ravens already taking off, and ran over to check Mal, to see if he was still breathing. Blast, he still was. I got back into my car, backed up over him, and ran him over again. There, that should do it. I rolled down my window, only to hear him moaning. Why won’t he die?! I backed up, floored my gas, and ran him over a third time. I parked in the back of the building and walked around. A crowd had started to gather. I hung out in the back long enough to find out that he was dead, and no one had seen the vehicle that had run him over before I snuck away. Guess I needed to go to the grocery store to pick up lunch and hit the carwash on my way back to the bus yard, though, probably not in that order. 

Guess I’m not making that lunch meeting after all.


End file.
